


The Workshop of Dreams

by Amatea



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Romance, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amatea/pseuds/Amatea
Summary: In a secret workshop lost to time, Brigitte and Hana talk about a future together.





	The Workshop of Dreams

Stale air and warm light sleep in Brigitte Lindholm’s secret workshop. By the redness of the trees hanging outside the slim windows overhead, one can tell it’s Autumn somewhere in Sweden. The squinting vistas of forest around shine just enough light to navigate around the precious little space that’s left around here. Tools line the walls - hammers, wrenches, metal filaments and giant welding torches. They’re waiting for a guiding hand to build something, anything. There’s a table to the left with an assortment of machine parts heaped over it, wires, springs, clasps, cascading onto the cement floor like a metal waterfall. Presiding over Brigitte’s tiny realm, a tall mound covered by a brown blanket. Everything here has been touched, cared for, worn to the bone, battered and repaired twice over.

 

On the wall to the right, a tough brown apron hangs at the ready for Brigitte’s hand. She puts it on over her flannel and jeans before adjusting her flowing brunette ponytail. Brigitte puts her hands on her hips in a power stance and sighs. She eases into thoughts of the immediate future and the loving present. Today, she finishes her most important project, a passion project she dreamt of pursuing since she joined the new Overwatch. Her hands find the blanket, and she pulls. Heaps of cloth fold onto the ground in a pile.

 

“She’ll say yes or no.” Brigitte whispers to herself. “And life goes on.”

 

Her creation rests hunched over on two insect-like legs, cannon arms tucked under its bulbous torso. Two small wings extend from its flanks, each coupled with a jet nozzle. The shining silver mech suit gleams underneath the dim light. Caged snugly in its torso is the cockpit, an exposed cage protected by a windshield. This is Hana Song’s new toy.

 

A maintenance hatch lies open on the top of the machine. Next to that, a ladder leaning on its body. Brigitte climbs with care, sure of every step as she always is. Her hands find a wrench in the front pocket of her apron, and the work begins.

 

She enters an industrious flow. A gallery of wires, conductors, and other components unfold before her like pages of a scrapbook. She remembers when Hana nearly broke the defense matrix, argued over internal sensors, told her that she’s too good for an automatic pilot ejection system. Brigitte lets these thoughts pass and go as she works, subsuming her watch of the clock nearby.

 

Somewhere in the shop, a door shuts with a muted thud. Brigitte turns around to find Hana leaning on the wall with her hands in the pockets of her gym shorts. Her black sports bra tells Brigitte she just got back from her run around the forest outside.

 

A blur of orange zips through the door, underneath her notice.

 

The bubblegum ballooning from Hana’s mouth pops. With a look of anticipation and hunger in her eyes, she wrangles in her gum and chews before speaking up. “Hey Brigitte.”

 

Brigitte smiles at the attention. She notices Hana’s brow is furrowed a little, a consequence of the light hitting her eyes at the wrong angle. Hana’s tongue plays with her gum, licking around in swirls in between the relaxed chewing of her delicate jaw. She is youth in all its arrogance and determination, the cutest girl Brigitte ever met. Hana’s proud lips close and make a wet, sucking noise, an all to familiar sound for Brigitte’s eager ears. Her heart quivers.

 

“Hey.” Brigitte answers, already down from the ladder and walking to meet her.

 

“You should try this flavor,” says Hana, pointing to her mouth. “It’s strawberry.”

 

They’re close now, heart to heart and chest to chest. Hana shifts her weight off the wall and into Brigitte’s surprised lips. She reaches to grasp the mechanic’s chin and pulls gently. Brigitte yields and closes her eyes. She tilts her head and feels Hana’s tongue probing her mouth, breath escaping, enveloping Brigitte’s cheeks. They dive into a brief, passionate kiss, tongues meeting with one decadent pass before they break away. Brigitte’s mouth lingers open, the wad of gum now in her mouth. Hana leans on the wall again as before, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

 

Brigitte opens her eyes and savors the taste as she begins to chew. “Mmm. Yes. This is good.”

 

“There’s more where that came from,” Hana says with a wink. “Let’s hurry up and get our baby up and walking.”

 

“I installed the coolant injectors just before you walked in. We’re ready to go.”

 

Cooly brushing her long hair out of her eyes, Hana makes her way to the waiting mech’s cockpit. Brigitte follows behind, noticing the way Hana’s strut takes on an extra swagger when they’re alone in the shop together. Her hips buck a little more with each step. With some help, Hana’s at the controls and ready with childlike gusto. “Let me start her up!”

 

Brigitte stands at a safe distance. She gives a thumbs up.

 

Hana hastily starts flipping switches. “Initiating startup sequence!”

 

The engine rumbles, boosters flare to life, panels in front of Hana’s face light up. Then they hear something.

 

“Meow!”

 

Hana’s eyes roll. She reluctantly shuts everything down. “Is that Huckleberry or Unhei?”

 

Brigitte takes a moment to consider. “That was Unhei’s meow, I think.”

 

“Of course it was,” Hana giggles incredulously. “Let’s get her out of here.”

 

Crawling on and around the mech, Hana and Brigitte go about looking for Unhei. They peer into every port, hatch, nook and cranny they encounter until finally, after a solid ten minutes, Unhei appears in a small compartment in the left knee. “Geez, Unhei.” Hana scolds the orange tabby in her loving arms. “How could I ever get mad at you?”

 

“Throw her ass out of here, Hana. She needs to learn that this isn’t a place to sleep.”

 

Hana pouts and does so, unceremoniously swinging the cat out the door like a bowling ball. She turns around and giggles again. “Unhei still doesn’t know your rules. Will she ever learn?”

 

“They don’t call me a cat whisperer for nothing.” Brigitte answered, opening the cockpit again. Her back is turned, arms lifting the windshield up so the pilot behind her can enter.

 

“She’s...really warmed up to you and Huckleberry. So did I.”

 

“Yeah,” says Brigitte flatly. She opens the cockpit, inviting Hana in. But the girl doesn’t move.

 

“When Unhei and Huckleberry got along so well, it gave me an idea.”

 

Brigitte turns around and leans against the mech’s leg. “I’m listening.”

 

“I want to move in with you.”

 

The world sputtered, shuttered, broke down and stopped turning in front of Brigitte’s eyes. She’s entering a new world, one where she can be together with Hana all of the time. The possibilities, the calculus, the passion, all cogs grinding in her head. She’s quietly dumbstruck.

 

Hana’s holding back tears with a raspy laugh. She’s stuttering, almost whispering. “M-My Swedish is good enough to get by. I’ll pay for stuff. My friends won’t miss me, since I’m online all the time...”

 

TIme slows. The workshop is empty again. Brigitte and Hana are somewhere else, staring at each other in a place out of time. Even though they’d imagined it before, taking this next step as a couple, their hearts are caged from the present.

 

Maybe it wouldn’t work out after all, thought Hana.

 

But it probably will work out, thought Bridgette. She dreamt it would, after all. And a builder is nothing without their aspirations.

 

Finally. Bridgette let her smile out. “Yes.”

 

“What? Yes?”

 

“Yes! Come here so I can say it to you louder!”

 

Hana runs into Bridgitte's waiting arms, both of them saying it loud enough for their cats outside to hear.


End file.
